Fooled Me
by SafireGriffon
Summary: Prequel to Intimacy. How did this whole thing get started? With just a look. Probably could get away with a T rating, but I'm playing it safe. 353!
1. Fooled Me Once, Shame On You

A/N: Here by popular demand (or not), the prequel to "Intimacy".

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams . . .

**Chapter 1: Fooled Me Once, Shame On You**

Damn, it was hot. The wind hardly even helped, since it was hot, too. Gojyo flicked his hair out of his eyes, grimacing when it glued itself to his sweat-sticky fingers. Normally, he didn't mind a little hot weather, but this was just ridiculous. Even the dust that Jeep kicked up seemed to drift tiredly, as if it just didn't have the energy to stay in the air for long. He glanced over at the other side of the Jeep to see how far he could stretch out before the bakasaru would throw a hissy fit. Waitaminute. His eye twitched. The stupid kid had completely stolen the middle of the Jeep. His leg was stretched over the middle seat and his goddamn _foot_ was on _Gojyo's_ side.

"Hey chimp! Get your foot off my side!"

"It's not on your side!" Goku grumbled crankily.

"Yes it _is_, stupid! Look, you cross the line right here!" Gojyo pointed to just above the stupid monkey's ankle.

"Do not! That's the _middle_! Besides, you crowd _me_ all the time!"

"_I_ have longer legs, baka! I need more room!"

Goku, out of comebacks, stuck his tongue out at the kappa.

Gojyo fumed. Hadn't Chin Yisou broken that leg? 'Cause re-breaking it sure sounded like a good idea right now. "Move your goddamn feet!"

"No!"

"Bakasaru!"

"Erogappa!"

_Click!_

Both of them froze and turned at the by-now-familiar sound to find a furious Sanzo gazing down the barrel at them. "Shut UP!"

They did. Goku even moved his foot. A little. Gojyo wasn't going to push it right this second. While he was _pretty_ sure the monk wouldn't actually kill him, per se, there was no guarantee that the easily angered blond wouldn't shoot him in an arm or a leg. He shifted over into what little room he had. He wondered if they could just buy the stupid runt a skateboard and tie it to the bumper of the Jeep. Gojyo grinned for a minute or two, imagining _finally_ getting the backseat to himself as the bakasaru bounced around in the dust cloud behind them. But even this could amuse him for only so long. He moved on to his new favorite pastime.

See, by week two, he and Goku had already gone through every road game they knew, and there's only so much you can watch the scenery. Tree. Shrub. Tree. Tree. Tree. Dirt. Oh, look, a squirrel! More Trees. Bush. Clouds that looked like nothing in particular, but you tried to make them look like something anyway, because you were so. Bored. So, Gojyo had moved on to a new game—mirrors. Not much of a game, really, just looking at someone through the mirror until he got caught.

Hakkai wasn't much fun—he'd catch you within seconds. Said he felt chi shift or something. Gojyo was almost positive that Hakkai was making that up, but didn't want to say so in case he wasn't. After all, he always did catch Gojyo's eyes in the mirror, often before Gojyo really had a chance to start counting seconds. Goku wasn't much fun, either, but for the opposite reason. You could stare at that kid forever, and he'd never notice. His record was 22 minutes, 7 seconds. The fun one was Sanzo. Sometimes he'd notice right away, within ten seconds. But once, it took over four minutes for him to figure it out. Besides, he could look through the side mirror when he played the game with Sanzo, so it was easy to pretend to be looking at something else when Sanzo caught him staring.

He happened to be looking in that side-view mirror at that very moment. Sanzo looked pissed, but then he usually did. Purple eyes glared at nothing in particular. He was trying not to grind his teeth. Gojyo could tell, because Sanzo's jaw would always twitch funny when he was trying not to grind his teeth. Sanzo glared over at the side-view mirror a few times, but Gojyo was able to turn his head and "watch the scenery" before he was caught.

Sanzo's anger had faded now. His shoulders, no longer held quite so rigid, sagged tiredly against the front seat. The purple eyes were no longer narrowed in anger, but half-lidded in weariness. The jaw line was relaxed, and the way he leaned his head backward revealed more of his neck then his "anger slouch" had a moment before. But then those purple eyes flicked over to the mirror, and found a certain redheaded kappa staring straight at him. "What are you looking at?"

"Myself," red ones challenged, "That's usually what mirrors are used for. Or is it a crime to look in a mirror now?"

"For Gojyo, it should be. He could break every mirror for ten miles around!" Goku crowed. He got a swift kick in the leg.

"What was that for!?"

"What do you think it was for, idiot?"

"Don't call me an idiot!"

"Urusai!" BLAM! BLAM!

"Yare, yare . . ."

Goku gave him one last dirty look before settling down on the opposite side of the jeep. The drool informed the rest of the ikkou when he'd fallen into another food-centric fantasy.

Sanzo took out cigarette and lit it, eyes still glaring over at the mirror every couple of seconds. He wasn't going to be zoned enough to make the game any fun, now, so Gojyo resigned himself to watching the scenery for the time being. What he didn't realize was that someone else had figured out how to play the mirror game, and was wondering how on earth a guy who'd survived so many battles could not notice someone staring at him for the better part of a half hour.

* * *

"There it is," Hakkai sighed in relief as the town finally came into view. They'd come to a fork in the road well over two hours ago, but their map, apparently out-dated, had not had the fork on it. So the ikkou had taken a guess. Murphy must have been watching to make sure that his precious law was upheld, because it turned out to be the wrong path, and they'd had to spend a great deal of time backtracking. 

"Finally!" Goku shouted, "I'm so hungry, I could eat a house!"

"A house?"

"Goku, don't you mean a horse?"

"Why would I eat a horse?"

"Why would you eat a _house_!?"

"Shut up, erogappa!"

"Stupid monkey!"

BLAM!

"Sanzo, you know you really shouldn't be firing that all the time. The noise is bound to make us all go deaf."

"Tch. Just get us into town before I kill these idiots."

Thank goodness this town was larger than usual, and so they would each be able to get their own rooms tonight. They'd camped out for the past three days, and this little family had had about as much togetherness as it could stand. Hakkai had found a used bookstore a few doors down from their hotel and had retreated to his room with the prizes he'd found there. The innkeeper's son had a game system, and had agreed to teach Goku how to play. Everyone knew where the kappa went when he had free time. And Sanzo did . . .whatever it was that Sanzo does. Read the paper and brood, supposedly.

Except that Hakkai was so wrapped up with his book, and Goku with his game, that neither of them really checked what the other two members of their party were doing.

Gojyo, for once, was not seeking pleasurable company for the night. He'd flirted scandalously with both the receptionist at the desk and the waitress that night, but it was more out of habit then anything. Because, for whatever reason, he couldn't stop seeing the way Sanzo had looked at him when he'd caught him staring in the mirror. He wasn't sure what it was, but it had made it nearly impossible not to stare during dinner, just because he couldn't figure it out. Granted, Sanzo was about as beautiful as a man could get, but his attitude countered that like a bucket of ice water. It had never stopped him from looking; Gojyo liked to consider himself a connoisseur of beauty, even if his particular specialty was the female form. But dammit! That look had no right to be seductive!

Gojyo ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, and lit up a cigarette. He breathed deep and exhaled a huge cloud of smoke, not having to worry about aiming the smoke away from any whining kids, fastidious healers or (according to his owner) _delicate_ dragons. Sanzo didn't _do_ seduction. He just didn't. Hell, Gojyo wasn't even sure that it was a seductive look Sanzo had given him. But it hadn't been the normal glare, either. There had been a sort of _smugness_ to it, a smokiness. Gojyo was absolutely certain that the look was supposed to be telling him something, but, contrary to popular belief, Gojyo was not a risk-taker. Not on things that really mattered. You could risk a hand of cards, 'cause you were bound to win your money back in the next hand or two, provided you weren't hopelessly stupid. You could hand out pick-up lines to half a dozen girls just to score one, because, really, was he going to care by next town which one he'd managed to get into bed?

But this was different. If he interpreted the situation wrong, this whole trip West could turn into a living hell. He already had to worry about getting shot at on a daily basis—who knew what the priest would do if Gojyo really pissed him off? If it _was_ an invitation, and Gojyo didn't do anything, Sanzo would be pissed. If it _wasn't_ an invitation, and Gojyo went in like it was, Sanzo would be pissed. Gojyo took one more puff on his Hi Lite and snubbed it out in the ashtray, automatically reaching for another, only to find the pack empty.

Gojyo sighed and shrugged his jacket back on. Just as well. Pacing in his room wasn't doing any good. He'd just go downstairs, buy a pack out of his own cash and make Sanzo buy him more on the gold card tomorrow. If Gojyo was running low, he knew the priest would need more cigarettes as well. Gojyo was laughing at himself as he left his room; imagine thinking that _Sanzo_ was trying to come on to him! _Gojyo, my man, you have been hanging out with the stupid monkey far too long. It's rotting your brain, _he thought to himself as he opened the door. He made sure he had the key in his pocket before closing the door all the way and checking the lock. He turned to walk down the hallway and almost jumped out of his skin.

There was Sanzo, leaning nonchalantly against the wall opposite Gojyo's room; smoking as if hanging out in the hallway was the most natural thing in the world. And, somehow, Gojyo almost believed that it was. It almost felt like he'd just barged into Sanzo's room, rather then that they were both standing in the common hallway. Sanzo looked at Gojyo out of the corner of his eye, and, not saying a word, turned around and walked back into his own room, shutting the door behind him. Gojyo stood, uncertain for about half a second, and then followed.

Needless to say, he completely forgot about those cigarettes.


	2. Fooled Me Twice, Shame On Me

Disclaimer: See chapter 1

**Chapter 2: Fooled Me Twice, Shame On Me**

The next day, it was as if nothing had ever happened. The stupid monkey ("Don't call me a monkey!") still squabbled with him over everything that may or may not have been on his breakfast plate. Hakkai still half-heartedly tried to keep the peace while nagging Sanzo to have something besides coffee for breakfast. Sanzo still snapped at Hakkai to stop mothering him and drank his coffee around his paper.

Gojyo, on the other hand, was a mess. It was like the entire world had turned upside-down, and everyone except Gojyo had just begun to calmly walk on the ceiling. Yeah, next time the universe decides to reverse the meanings of "up" and "down", it should really send a memo.

When Goku got away with stealing a third slice of bacon from off of Gojyo's plate, Hakkai's brow furrowed in concern. "Gojyo, are you alright?"

"Hm? Oh. Yeah," Gojyo muttered, tearing his eyes away from the hand that was now holding a cigarette around the newspaper, tapping the cinders into an ashtray. How can he be so calm? Gojyo wondered angrily. His own cigarette had felt foreign in his fingers that morning, as if he _hadn't_ been smoking for the last fourteen years. His lips had clamped it too tight. He'd had to hold the flame before his face for an eternity before it had lit. He'd finished it in two drags. It just seemed like something should have . . . .changed. But nothing had.

_Geez_, he thought to himself, _I sound like such a girl._ And yet he had no appetite that morning. And he couldn't seem to take his eyes off those hands—the only part of Sanzo he could currently see, thanks to the robes and the stupid paper that was still covering his face. He didn't know if he wanted him to lower that paper or not; as it was, he was totally off-kilter. If he had to look at that face across the table, he knew he'd give something away.

He really _was_ acting like a girl. He was back to being thirteen years old with that girl who lived down the street, trying to figure out just what you say while you put your pants back on. But this was _Sanzo_, not some girl he'd picked up. He couldn't just leave in the morning and never see him again. He couldn't just give him a wink and a smile and ride off into the sunset (figuratively and literally speaking). He was going to have to deal with him all day everyday for a looooong time.

And on top of that, Sanzo just didn't _do_ stuff like this. Sure, it was rare for Gojyo to spend any time with Sanzo, so it's not like he could say for sure, but he couldn't imagine Sanzo going down to the bar and picking up somebody. And the monk certainly didn't seem like he would be messing around with any of them, just for the damn inconvenience of dealing with them afterwards, but clearly he would. He had. With one Sha Gojyo. He almost groaned and buried his face in his hands from the plain impossibility of it, but then Hakkai would never leave him alone.

Maybe Sanzo really didn't have any feelings on this at all. Maybe he considered this more convenient, because he wouldn't have to go pick somebody up. It certainly didn't seem to have any effect on him. Suddenly, the paper came down.

"8:00. We're going."

"Whaaaa!? Sanzo, I'm not finished with breakfast!"

"If we let you, you'd eat straight through to lunch, you bottomless pit."

"I would no—how cool would that be?"

"Tch, baka. Get moving."

Gojyo rolled out of his chair and into a stretch, but made no complaint as they headed for the door.

"Gojyo?" Hakkai looked at him from the table, where he was picking up Goku's forgotten cape He didn't voice the question, but the redhead knew what he was asking. _Is there anything you want to tell me?_ And he tried to keep eye contact, he really did. But he never could with Hakkai, so his eyes skittered over to look at a suddenly very interesting spot near the toe of his left shoe. "It's fine, Hakkai."

"What happened?" He asked quietly.

"Nothing." What was he supposed to say? "_Well, Hakkai, I just slept with the almighty pain in the_ patella _Genjyo Sanzo, which seemed like a pretty good idea at the time but now I'm acting like a friggin' school-girl virgin about it and golly gee I just don't know what to do"?_

Even if he wasn't looking straight at them, he could see the hurt in the brunette's eyes. Gojyo mentally swore. Guess he had a right—they'd been friends for almost three years. They'd both thought they were past secrets. But all Hakkai did was nod once and start to walk toward the door.

"Hakkai."

He barely turned his head.

"I can't tell you. At least not now. I will when I can, okay?"

Hakkai shrugged, pretending at carelessness, "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Gojyo."

"Only if I don't want you all pissy."

As soon as it escaped his mouth, he worried that he'd just _really_ pissed off the healer with that statement. But he just snorted softly and gave a small smile. "Okay. Just . . .whatever it is . . .deal with it soon. I don't think our little group can take too much tension."

" . . .Don't I know it," Gojyo muttered, as they both left the restaurant.

* * *

He caught himself playing the mirror game without even meaning to. He just couldn't stop looking. Granted, he'd always accepted the fact that Sanzo was just way _prettier_ than any guy had the right to be. Luckily for everyone's sake, he was always a complete asshole, so no one had to worry about getting seduced by him. But now that he'd really _seen _him, seen all of him, sweating and writhing and panting and trembling and demanding in a voice that he didn't know could sound like _that_, he knew that Sanzo was not "pretty". He was beautiful. It wasn't that he wasn't masculine; he knew the body under him last night had _not_ belonged to any chick, no matter how flat-chested said chick might have been. It was just that "handsome" didn't fit Sanzo. Never would. His cheekbones were too delicate. His eyes were too big. His eyelashes were too long. To keep him out of Pretty Land, though, those cheekbones were not only delicate—they were sharp. His lips were hard, not soft. There was not a spare bit of flesh anywhere on him. He was too harsh to be pretty, and too delicate to be handsome. Just beautiful. 

Just then, Sanzo's eyes turned to the side-view mirror and caught his stare. This time, Gojyo didn't pretend to be looking at himself, or at the scenery. He couldn't look away at all. The look was horribly idle, as if Sanzo had found an interesting bug, but couldn't be bothered to really study it. Gojyo blinked too many times. Sanzo looked away, back to the road, and asked Hakkai something about the route ahead. As if it was easy. As if it was nothing. As if it never occurred to him that it could have been anything else. It just made Gojyo feel more stupid and unsure, and totally _virgin_. What was he doing? _He_ was the playboy. _He_ did the one-night-stand thing. Other people did _not_ do it to him. Certainly not stupid baldy monks. Gojyo made a marked (if failed) effort to not look in Jeep's mirrors for the rest of the day. _Just need to make it to the next town. Just until the next town. Then he'll stay in his room with his paper like he's supposed to, and I'll go out and get some random chick like I'm supposed to, and the whole thing will just blow over._

Gojyo was almost sure he heard fate laughing at him.

_

* * *

Why won't that idiot stop staring? _

Sanzo's eyebrow twitched as he attempted to keep up a fairly normal conversation with Hakkai, a nearly impossible feat due to a pair of red eyes that he could feel crawling all over him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this angry at himself. Angry at other people, yes, but this angry at himself? He made it a habit to do nothing that he could berate himself for. He had enough of those gnawing at the back of his mind without adding new ones. Genjyo Sanzo had neither the time nor the patience for regrets. But even he could admit that last night had been the epitome of stupidity.

Hadn't he been telling himself for months not to encourage the stupid kappa? Gojyo already acted far too familiar with him, randomly throwing an arm over his shoulder, making suggestive comments, and generally making an ass of himself. Sanzo always chose not to acknowledge how these habits, which should have been absolutely infuriating, made his skin flush with something that was not anger.

He'd always told himself not to show it. To respond to any of Gojyo's advances would be the equivalent to becoming one of those girls he was always picking up in whatever town they stopped at. Worse, because he should know better. He _did_ know better. And he did it anyway.

Well, it was just a one-time thing. Wouldn't happen again. _Couldn't_ happen again. It didn't matter how much he might have wanted it; Genjyo Sanzo didn't lose control. It didn't matter that he had been horny as hell, and that he just couldn't keep his eyes off Gojyo—his generous smile, his careless, swaggering walk, eyes that promised thousands of things that Sanzo knew well and good he never gave to anyone—what mattered was that he had lost control. But just once. One time. Never again.

It wasn't even that Gojyo was handsome. He was, but that wasn't the point. He had a way about him that should have rubbed Sanzo all the wrong ways—he'd met men that behaved like Gojyo before, and had never felt anything but loathing for them. But while a look from those men had always made Sanzo feel dirty and used, a look from Gojyo made him feel . . .special. As if he was the only one that Gojyo looked at (though he knew that wasn't true), as if he wasn't imagining anything sexual at all (though that was even less true). It made Sanzo angry to feel himself being taken in by someone to whom sex meant less than nothing. He glanced at the side-view mirror.

And caught red eyes staring into his own purple ones, dumbfounded. Sanzo tried not to show his surprise—he'd been expecting a knowing look, now that Gojyo, well, _knew_. He'd been afraid that Gojyo would take license to behave even more boldly, to behave toward Sanzo as he would to anyone else he would have talked up. But these events must have shaken up the kappa almost as much as they had shaken Sanzo himself, because Gojyo had been quiet all day. Even now, his eyes ventured nothing; they just blinked a little too rapidly. _Idiot_, Sanzo thought, _Whether this means anything to him or not, if he reveals it, he's dead. He should know at least that._ And with that, he forced himself to look away and continue his conversation with Hakkai, who remained blissfully ignorant of the thoughts going through two of his companions' minds.

"We're actually making pretty good time, Sanzo. The town's obviously too far to make it by tonight, but we should make it by tomorrow at dinner, no problem."

Sanzo grunted his approval, and promptly decided to take a nap, if those eyes in the backseat would stop undressing him for half a second. He almost laughed. How on heaven and earth was he supposed to make this a one-time thing if the kappa kept looking at him that way?

_

* * *

Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT! _Gojyo swore to himself. They were camping tonight, which meant no chance to talk to Sanzo. At least, not unless he was very creative. Whenever they camped, the arrangement was the same as when they had only two rooms at the inn—the monkey bunked with Sanzo, and he stayed with Hakkai. Gojyo wished that the arrangement made a little less sense so that they'd be able to scramble the room assignments. But on the rare occasion that they did get scrambled, it was always Hakkai and Sanzo together, leaving Gojyo with the chimp, so that wouldn't work either. Damn. 

Gojyo had never gulped down his dinner so fast in his life. Even Goku stared in shock, which, naturally, started another bout of insults between the two of them. But Gojyo's mind wasn't on besting the monkey, for once. He just wanted to get away from that campfire as quickly as possible. Granted, camp-outs were generally early nights, anyway, since there really wasn't anyplace to set out a game of cards, and not enough light for Hakkai and Sanzo to do much reading by, but it was barely dark when Gojyo proclaimed that he was tired and headed off to the tent. Hakkai and Goku both had their eyes turned toward Gojyo's retreating back—one concerned, one just plain confused—so neither of them saw the singularly peculiar look that flitted across Sanzo's face.

It took a little over an hour before the others banked out the fire and started heading to bed, Goku and Sanzo to one tent, and Hakkai slowly walking towards the one he was sharing with Gojyo. The "door" opened slowly.

"Gojyo?"

"Yeah?"

"Figured you couldn't possibly be sleeping. What on earth is going on?"

Gojyo groaned and threw a bronzed arm over his eyes in a gesture of utter defeat, "Hell if I know."

To his credit, Hakkai was being incredibly patient. He'd waited all day, and even now sat down and starting unlacing his shoes. He changed in silence, and it was only when his clothes were neatly folded, shoes perfectly parallel and even, and monocle folded carefully inside his headband that he decided Gojyo wasn't going to speak and started the conversation himself.

"What I don't understand is that a fight with him really wouldn't bother you like this, not normally. You two always argue—you insult him, he fires the gun at you, and the argument's basically over. There are very few variations to the pattern. But something out of the ordinary has happened here."

Gojyo decided to answer that rather obvious observation with more silence. Then a deep sigh. Then silence again.

"What happened? What did he say?"

Gojyo sort of laughed. " . . .Nothing." It was true, or nearly so. There had been practically no words exchanged during the whole thing. There were a lot of times he'd wanted to say something, but he was certain that if he had, he would have been kicked out and, strangely enough, that bothered him. The fact that that bothered him bothered him.

" . . .Alright."

He watched Hakkai lie down in his sleeping bag. He kicked off his own boots and socks, letting his headband and vest join them in a rumpled heap to the side of the tent. The rest of his clothes stayed on—it got friggin' cold out here at night. Crawling inside his own sleeping bag, he looked at his friend's back miserably. He had never wanted to tell Hakkai something so badly, but never had the topic been so forbidden. No, not even when they talked about their pasts. This little group, with all its many, many issues, balanced like a pyramid of acrobats on a unicycle. Blindfolded. Any little thing out of the ordinary could upset it. Aw, hell, who was he kidding. This was a big thing. This was huge. And strangely enough, the thing that mattered most to him was whether Sanzo would admit that.

_Definitely spend too much time with the chimp . . ._ Gojyo thought, shutting his eyes.

_And not nearly enough time with his owner._ The naughty part of his brain answered.


	3. Fooled Me Thrice, Shame On Us Both

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

**Fooled Me Thrice, Shame On Us Both**

The next morning was positively frosty, summer sun notwithstanding. Hakkai didn't even look at Gojyo as he rolled up his things to put into the back of the jeep. Sanzo, of course, was never friendly, but seemed more withdrawn than usual this morning. Even Goku seemed subdued.

_We have to get this worked out,_ Gojyo thought, sneaking a look at the blond in the front seat, _we have to._

Sanzo tried to get them to drive right through lunch, since they'd just be eating sandwiches anyway, but Hakkai insisted that Hakuryu needed to eat, too, so they pulled over on the side of the road. Gojyo couldn't even find it in him to feel hungry, with the oppressive silence between the four of them, so he only ate about half his sandwich before passing the rest to Goku. For once, the stomach on legs didn't crow about getting more food, just mumbled a quick thank you and gulped it down without even seeming to think about it. Gojyo started to light up a smoke.

"Not here," Hakkai admonished, "If you're going to smoke, at least have the courtesy to go downwind."

Gojyo swore a little under his breath, but obliged, walking several yards away from everyone else before lighting up. He was surprised when, before he'd even finished his Hi Lite, Sanzo joined him.

"Gotta light?"

Gojyo offered his Zippo without even looking over. Sanzo used it and handed it back, blowing out a cloud of smoke elegantly.

"So, what's your problem?"

_You call that a conversation opener?_ Gojyo's eyes narrowed, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're acting like an idiot. Granted, I didn't expect you to act very mature about any of this, but this sort of reaction is just ridiculous."

Gojyo opened his mouth to retort angrily, but Sanzo interrupted, "We fucked, Gojyo. That's it."

"That's it?" Gojyo said, before he could stop himself. _Shit. Way to sound like you're in control here._

Sanzo leveled his hard, purple eyes at the half-demon. "That's it," he said coldly, evenly. Then he put out his Marlboro and walked back to where Hakkai and Goku were packing away the lunch fixings. Gojyo stood there a little longer, watching the hot summer wind blow his hair in front of his face, giving the landscape before him a red picture-frame. He put out his cigarette and lit another.

"That's it," he repeated to himself quietly. Got all worked up over nothing. Well, what else did he think it could be? Gojyo had never felt more like just hitting himself in the forehead. He'd imagined everything. The look in Sanzo's eyes had been lust, nothing else. Those muttered things Sanzo had said just under his breath, the words he couldn't quite catch, had not been his name, had not been declarations of any sort of feeling. Just the normal, insane, senseless things that everyone said. But he couldn't have just . . .Sanzo didn't just . . .

_He just_ did _baka,_ Gojyo groaned, getting out a second cigarette and lighting it. He was surprised when the corners of his eyes started to burn. _Well, what did you expect? It was just sex, after all._ But it had been different with Sanzo, at least he thought it had been. Maybe he had just wanted it to be different. He'd wanted it so bad. Wanted Sanzo in a way that went beyond the desire to screw him senseless. He just didn't know the word for it, was all. He threw down his cigarette and ground it out with his boot, going back to Jeep, who was all transformed and getting packed up again.

When they'd actually gotten back on the road, Gojyo found he still couldn't stop looking at the priest. Luckily for him, Goku was too busy being miserable, and Hakkai too busy being angry, to notice. To Gojyo, love and sex had always been confusing. You wouldn't think so, from the way he went from woman to woman like he didn't have a care. But he'd really expected more from it than was really there, especially in the early days. Sometimes he thought that Jien's relationship with Mother must have screwed him up more than he knew—Sha Gojyo knew that there was a difference between love and sex, you'd have to be a complete idiot not to know by the time you racked up as much experience as the kappa had, but he'd always had trouble pinpointing what the exact difference was. Maybe because there'd never been anyone that mattered to him, at least not anyone who had let him matter to them.

But he wanted Sanzo. Not just in bed, though that was a big part of it. He wanted . . .he didn't know what he wanted. There was no way that being with Sanzo, being important to Sanzo, would be anything like being with anyone else. Sanzo just didn't do relationships. Hell, he hardly even showed any sort of feeling for Goku, for all that the kid worshipped him. So what right did Gojyo, the literal redheaded stepchild, have to expect anything from him?

Hakkai said something, but Gojyo wasn't really listening, so he just closed his eyes and pretended to be sleeping, trying to convince himself that he had no reason to feel as awful as he did.

* * *

He'd been up half the night, trying to build up the self-control he was going to need to face Gojyo tomorrow; today had been hell. He'd been able to justify coming on to him the day before, because that was what he had done, because he thought if he just did this once, it would cure his obsession with the stupid half-breed. If he just had sex with him, the curiosity, the need, would go away. Tenkai, had he been wrong. 

It had grown. That feeling that somehow he was special to the redhead hadn't stopped when he'd allowed Gojyo into his bed. He kept trying to remind himself that the kappa had done this with countless other people, but he couldn't seem to make himself believe it when he'd felt those lips kissing him. It wasn't that he'd been gentle, exactly, Sanzo wouldn't have allowed gentleness even if it had entered into the scene, but there was still something tender about the fierceness with which their lips had melded together, something personal about the possessiveness with which Gojyo had left a mark where Sanzo's neck met his shoulder (for once, Sanzo thanked the gods for his profession, and the clothing it required), something almost . . .no, he wouldn't use the word 'loving', about the way Gojyo had moved those insistent hands over his body.

And yet he'd said those cruel words to him on the hillside, the only time they'd had alone since Sanzo had left his room at sunrise the next morning. He'd had to; Gojyo had forced his hand. If Gojyo had just treated him like he did every other person he'd bedded, then Sanzo would have been able to let life continue as normal, his curiosity satisfied. But he hadn't. He'd acted as unsure as Sanzo felt, and that was unnerving. Sanzo might not trust Gojyo's judgment in, well, just about anything, but he did trust Gojyo's ability to remain completely detached from the actual act of sex, and Gojyo had betrayed that, leaving the monk floating in limbo.

_Damn him!_ Sanzo thought to himself.

They passed a faded sign on the side of the road. "We're about 200 miles from the next town," Hakkai announced to no one in particular.

Goku nodded, and settled in more against the side of the jeep, his head in his hands, sort of randomly staring into space. Sanzo grunted affirmatively and cautiously glanced at the mirror for a glimpse of red eyes in the mirror, only to find them shuttered closed.

He couldn't quite justify the feeling of disappointment that flooded through his chest.

* * *

When they got into town, they all behaved fairly predictably, taking into account the odd mood. Apparently, everyone was just sick of the vibe that had been controlling the better part of the last two days. Gojyo and Goku fought over things at dinner, as usual. The paper fan made two appearances. Hakkai pasted on his 'I'm fine, and isn't the world just dandy,' smile and made random comments about the energy of his companions. The only thing that might have given away the tense atmosphere was the fact that Gojyo and Hakkai still weren't speaking easily; there was no joking between the two of them at all. Since Gojyo and Sanzo didn't normally speak to each other, the fact that they didn't now was hardly noticeable. 

They'd managed to get separate rooms yet again tonight, so the Sanzo-ikkou split up again this evening, no one being quite up to marathon games of cards, or breaking out the Mahjong tiles. Hakkai was teaching the saru how to play solitaire so that he wouldn't be so bored when the others had something to do, and, once Goku understood the game, retired to his room to finish up the book he'd started two nights before. That left Gojyo, who should have been picking up a random chick, and Sanzo, who should have been reading the paper.

Naturally, the use of the word "should" tells you that is not what they were doing at all.

Gojyo found the priest outside his room, downstairs in the lobby buying a pack of cigarettes until they could get to the store in the morning and buy him a carton.

Sanzo glanced up and saw the very person he wanted to avoid. _Idiot kappa_! he mentally growled, _What do I have to say to get it through your thick skull? _

This time it was Gojyo waiting for him, leaning his arm carelessly on the banister of the stairway, smoking. Sanzo didn't want to encourage him. He didn't.

Dammit, he _did_.

And so when he passed him on the staircase, he walked close enough to let their clothing brush together, close enough for fingertips to graze fingertips. Gojyo didn't seem to have any reaction, so Sanzo kept walking up the stairs, but he left his door unlatched. Sure enough, Gojyo was there less than ten minutes later.

* * *

Gojyo bit his lip as he walked back up the stairs and toward Sanzo's room. He could _do_ this. _He_ could do this. He could do _this_. He _could_ do this. He tried the door, gently, so that if he had misunderstood, it wouldn't rattle and reveal him. It opened easily. 

And there was Sanzo, standing with his back to the door, priestly robes already abandoned. He hardly looked over his shoulder at Gojyo's arrival. Gojyo closed the door carefully behind him, locking it. Sanzo turned and faced him silently, as if Gojyo had been the one to instigate this.

"I don't have to be here, ya know."

The statement seemed to shock Sanzo, but the moment was over so quickly that Gojyo couldn't be sure. Sanzo coolly cocked one eyebrow, "You are."

Gojyo heard the dare in that short statement. Leave . . .if you can. He chose to ignore it, trying not to think of how hard it would be to stay away. Trying not to think of how easy Sanzo would make it look. He moved on to the questions he really wanted to ask. "So, is this something we're going to keep doing? I mean . . ." Gojyo threw up his hands in confusion, "What _are_ we doing?"

Sanzo smirked at him mockingly, closing the distance between them. "You talk too much, baka," he muttered against the redhead's lips before fusing them to his own.

* * *

It was weird afterwards. Did he stay? Was he allowed to stay? Was he expected to stay? Had they made this a regular thing now? Were they supposed to come up with some sort of code system? Were they telling the others (not friggin' likely)? 

He waited for a few minutes, and when Sanzo didn't tell him to get off his ass and get dressed, he decided he was allowed to stay. He wanted to touch him. Wrap an arm around him. Smell his hair. Kiss his temple. But he didn't. That would get him a smack with the harisen (he didn't doubt the monk's ability to find said fan, even when his clothes were on the other side of the room) and a one-way ticket back to his own room for sure.

The most confusing thing of all had happened tonight—something he wasn't sure what to think of. Something that he didn't know if Sanzo had even noticed had happened. That night, when the definition between you and me and red and gold and purple and alabaster and bronze had all been mixed up together . . .Sanzo had said his name.

What scared Gojyo, though, wasn't the fact that he'd heard his own name on the other's lips. What scared him was that wasn't all that he wanted. Not even close. Sanzo shifted his head on the pillow and took a slow breath, signally his first slip into the only fitful sleep he ever got. Gojyo watched gravity go to work on Sanzo's hair, eventually pulling it down the slope of the pillow, so close to his fingers that he would only have to move two inches, maybe three, to touch the ends of those golden strands.

He wanted to hear his name cross those harsh lips again, for sure. He wanted to hear it over and over and over, until his name was the only word the blond could remember anymore. He wanted to be the only one with him, ever. He didn't want to be with anyone else. He wanted to do things with him that had nothing to do with what they'd just done. He wanted to make him smile. He wanted to wait up with him when Sanzo's insomnia wouldn't let him sleep for hours on end. He wanted to just be able to touch his hand (he'd never noticed until now what perfect wrists Sanzo had). He wanted things he had no right to ask for.

Gojyo moved his hand just a little on his pillow, so he could see his own fingers and Sanzo's hair from where he lay. He wouldn't touch. Not now. Sanzo had only said his name once. But maybe, just maybe, it was a start.

* * *

A/N: A big thank you to all who read and reviewed, and a super-de-dooper-de-booper big hug to **_befanini_**, who beta'd this for me. 

Notes on the 353: I admit, when I first saw this couple on fanfiction, I was totally shocked. At first, I didn't like it because every fic I found wrote of them only having a sort of grudging lust toward each other--a sort of "wham-bam-thank-you-bstard" type of approach. Then I ran across**_ befanini's_** fics that pictured them as being not only in lust, but also in love, and I caved. Now I have a hard time imagining any other couple--in my mind, these two simply belong together!

One More Note: A few people have reviewed asking for a sequel. There is already one written; it's called "Intimacy." There will eventually be a sequel to _that_ titled "Aftershocks."


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